


Rush-Hour Crush

by LostinFic



Category: Doctor Who (2005)
Genre: Alternate Universe - Modern Setting, F/M, Ficlet, Fluff
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-03-14
Updated: 2016-03-14
Packaged: 2018-05-26 18:08:04
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 708
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/6250090
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/LostinFic/pseuds/LostinFic
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>To the spexy lad in a brown suit on the 9pm 37 eastbound bus, you read Dickens and astronomy books. We smile at each other every day, and I wish you’d show me the stars (if you know what I mean). From the pink and blonde girl with chips.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Rush-Hour Crush

_To the spexy lad in a brown suit on the 9pm 37 eastbound bus, you read Dickens and astronomy books. We smile at each other every day, and I wish you’d show me the stars (if you know what I mean). From the pink and blonde girl with chips._

“I’m so going to kill you, Shareen!” Rose shouted in her mobile, startling the passengers around her.

“What are you on about?”

Rose had known her friend for too long to be fooled by her innocent tone.

“The rush-hour crush ad in The Metro! What if he sees it?”

“Well, that’s kind of the point, babes. You’ve been going on and on about that bloke, about time something happened.”

Rose wasn’t usually this shy when it came to flirting with boys. However, this one looked like some kind young genius professor and that intimidated her.

“And you made a typo, he’s gonna think I’m an idiot.”

“What? There’s no typo, I double-checked.”

“S _p_ exy.”

“Oh, no, that’s specs and sexy together, see? ‘Cause you said he wore glasses.”

“Oh my god, he’s gonna think I’m an idiot,” Rose said, “Shit, it’s him!”

In a panic, she slid down in her seat and hid her face behind the newspaper. In her head, she repeatedly cursed Shareen along with every deity and her own mother for bringing her into this world. Her cheeks grew warm and sweat beaded on her brow.

She didn’t want him to see her, but she wanted to see him. His smile after work was the best part of her day. Once— more than once actually, but don’t tell Shareen— when he hadn’t gotten on the bus at his usual stop, she’d gotten off at the next stop and had waited for the following bus to make sure she’d see him. Yeah, okay maybe it was time she made a move.

She chanced a peek over the newspaper and jumped when she saw him standing right in front of her with a rather amused look on his face.

“Hello,” he said with one of his stunning smiles.

“It wasn’t me!” she blurted out.

“What?”

“The rush-hour crush.”

“What?”

He looked genuinely confused, maybe he hadn’t seen the ad.

“Hello.”

“I’m John.”

“Rose.”

They shook hands, and she hoped her palm didn’t feel as clammy as she feared it was. The bus would reach her stop soon, she had to think of something brilliant fast.

“I’m a Taurus.”

_No that’s astrology, Rose, not astronomy. Shit!_

She refrained from banging her head on the wall. She looked mental enough as it was.

“Taurus? Is that compatible with Scorpios?”

He tugged on his ear, and a slight blush appeared on his cheek. That hint of shyness gave Rose some confidence.

“I hope so,” she replied with a tongue-touched smile.

When she stood up from her seat and rang the bell, John’s eyes stayed on her mouth.

The bus stopped abruptly at a red light, and they both fell on their arses. Sprawled out on the dirty floor, they exchanged a glance and burst out laughing, a proper belly laugh that made their cheeks hurt. The other passengers looked at them warily.

He was up on his feet first and he held out his hand. As he pulled her up, the bus started moving again, and the motion made Rose collide with John, prompting more laughter from them. 

“Are you okay?” he asked.

“Yeah, thanks, I’m fine.”

Their eyes met and neither of them could look away. Her heart skipped a beat and similar dopey smiles appeared on their lips. The bus doors opening burst their bubble.

“That’s my stop,” she said, reluctantly moving away from him.

She exited the bus but stayed on the sidewalk, looking at him as the doors closed.

“Wait!”

He managed to pass on to her an envelope without getting his hand trapped, then the bus rolled away.

Inside, she found a piece of thick off-white cardstock with a silver border. “A night under the stars”  was written on it in elaborate typography . It was an invitation to the opening night of the London Planetarium’s new exhibition called _Satellite Five_ , next Friday night.

“John Smith plus one,” it said.

“Be my plus one,” he’d written.


End file.
